


Evenings at Indrid's

by VeetVoojagig



Series: I Could See You In My Future [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Crushing on Cryptids, M/M, how does dating even work?, shy boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 11:59:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17425478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeetVoojagig/pseuds/VeetVoojagig
Summary: Duck enjoys relaxing at the Mothman's camper. It's comfortable there. And, well. He's there.





	Evenings at Indrid's

Duck had taken to stopping by Indrid’s place on the way home from work--not every night, but a couple times a week. It was a little out of his way, given that he had to skateboard everywhere these days. It gave him somewhere peaceful to go that wasn’t his apartment, or the Lodge, on nights he wasn’t training with Leo. 

It was nice to have a distraction from worrying about Minerva, and what would happen to him next time they got into a fight with his dumb, normal, fragile body. Chilling with the damned Mothman shouldn’t really make him feel normal, but it did. It helped that Indrid’s camper was obviously somewhere someone lived, messy, cramped, homey. What was going to happen at a place like that?

He stepped off the skateboard and kicked it up so he could grab it, but before he could knock on the door it was open, and there was Indrid, with that wide grin that was unsettling the first time you looked at it, but after a while just became wholly _Idrid._ He was holding a bottle of beer in his hand, which Duck knew he didn’t drink, he liked sweet stuff. “Expecting company?” he said, trying not to blush. “Sorry, it’s just me.” 

“Stop being ridiculous and come inside, you’re letting all the heat out.” The lanky form handed him the cold bottle before disappearing back into the Winnebago with a soft laugh. Duck smiled and followed. He had to admit, it felt kind of… nice, that Indrid would go to even a little extra trouble for him. He knew he bought the beer just for him. He never offered it when Ned or Aubrey were here. It made him feel, you know. Special. 

Sweltering heat enveloped him as he climbed in and shut the door. He had to hope that Indrid would be able to tell if anything became an immediate fire risk. He didn’t think pointing it out would change anything, and, well, he didn’t want to do anything to annoy him. He tried to watch the other man unobtrusively as he made his way to the couch. 

Indrid refilled his mug of, presumably, eggnog, and joined Duck on the couch. He slid over to make more room for the taller man. He didn’t want to look like he was crowding him. Or trying to get close. 

He kind of was, though. There was something just fascinating about Indrid Cold. He wasn’t handsome, exactly, but he was striking. Duck didn’t think about that kind of thing a lot, but it was hard to avoid with Indrid. Duck was comfortable around him. And he didn’t have to keep secrets. Not about the Pine Guard, at least. He already knew about all of that. It was just the way his pulse sped when the cryptid looked at him that he was trying to hide. 

Fuck, this was ridiculous, he hadn’t acted like this since he was a kid. He’d thought he was over having dumb crushes. It never worked out well. 

“How was work?” Indrid asked, startling out of his thoughts.

“Uh. Why don’t you tell me, Mr. Future Guy?” he said, flashing a shy smile. 

Indrid chuckled softly and took a sip of his nog. “You know it doesn’t work that way, Duck. I don’t sit around spying on your personal life. That would be rude. And even if I wanted to, it’s not easy to track down possibilities for things that aren’t pivotal to the changing timelines. Unless someone is here, and I’m sensing what’s going to happen just a few moments away.” He raised an eyebrow behind the mirrored red glasses. 

“Like--”

“What I'm going to say,” Indrid finished with him. “Yes. That’s easy. But unless it's something like, say, I give you one too many alcoholic beverages and you are in an accident on your way home, I'm not likely to get a clear vision.”

Duck gave a soft laugh. “That ain’t likely to happen. Not skateboarding, anyway. But yeah, I get it. Sorry I keep making you explain it over and over.” 

“It’s all right. I understand your curiosity,” Indrid said quietly. “Sometimes I wonder what it’s like only seeing what’s happening now. It must be relaxing.” 

He glanced at the tall, gangly man. “I don’t know about that. But hey, you’ve been able to help, so that’s good. It’s all we can try to do, right?” 

Indrid leaned a little closer, tipping his head before sipping his eggnog. “Is something bothering you, Duck?” he asked as he gazed at him.

Duck looked down at the bottle in his hands. “No, uh, why would you think that?” His fingers turned the bottle quickly, around and around, and he shifted in his seat. Was he blushing again? Shit, Indrid shouldn’t be allowed to just _look_ at people like that. Even if he couldn’t see his eyes. Or ever would. He couldn’t take the glasses off without changing, right? Yeah. So that’d be awkward. 

“Duck,” Indrid said, and then a bony hand was laying on one of his, stilling his fidgets. His breath caught in his throat. Fuck, it wasn’t even really holding hands, and he was getting all freaked out about it. Indrid seemed to sense his turbulent emotions, and pulled his hand away. But then the man muttered something under his breath and wrapped his fingers around Duck’s wrist gently. “This has been very difficult for me,” he said, his voice lilting. “I’m not used to trying to make futures turn out for my own benefit.” 

He was staring at the Mothman’s hand, trying not to move. “Uh. What?” he asked. 

“I seem to have a stake in what could happen,” Indrid explained. “I’ve been watching the possibilities for some time. And I do rather like some of the end results. But occasionally they start slipping away, and I assume you’re uncertain of yourself and thinking of calling it off. I suppose I should put your mind at rest. I’ll say yes if you ask.” 

Duck cleared his throat. “Ask?” 

“I would love to join you for dinner, Duck Newton.” Indrid smiled his too-wide grin. 

“Oh. Uh. That. Yeah. So. You knew about that?” 

“Well.” Indrid appeared sheepish suddenly. “I may have lied about not spying on your future. Or not lied, per se. I don’t purposefully do so. I suppose having a part to play in it made a difference.” 

“Fuck.” Duck’s face was burning now, and he looked away. “Sorry. I don’t… shit!” 

He felt fingers brush gently against his cheek and looked up into mirrored red glasses. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Duck,” Indrid said. “Unless… had you decided you didn’t want to ask me after all? Did I overstep?” 

He hesitantly took Indrid’s hand in his own. “No. I don’t know. Maybe. I just…” He swallowed. “I haven’t done this much. I… never really felt interested, you know? But I… I like being around you. So I want to keep doing that. Does that make sense?” 

Indrid squeezed his hand gently. “Perfectly,” he said, and there was something in his smile that Duck couldn’t quite place. He leaned back on the couch, giving Duck space but keeping ahold of his hand. That… he could get used to. He took a sip of his beer and squeezed Indrid’s hand back experimentally, and smiled when the cryptid let out a soft, pleased sound. 

This? This was okay.


End file.
